On Turning Thirty

On September 14th, my sweet husband turned 30 years old. Thirty! This feels surreal, as I distinctly remember being little and watching the episode of Full House where Danny Tanner turned 30 and thinking "whoa. that's old." Now I'm living it. How. Did. This. Happen?

Packers tickets at Lambeau AND dinner at Oceanaire? I'd say 30 is treating my love quite well, so far.

Chad's about 7 months older than me, so I've still got a little bit of time to soak up my twenties. I always joke about how he's so much older than me, because he was born in an entirely different year. As I'm nearing this dreaded change of decade, I can't help but think about what "high school Angie" would have to say about the place of life I'm in. I'm sure she'd start by making a snotty comment about how my Coach handbag collection has seriously dwindled, of course, but I think she'd probably be pretty surprised above all else. She thought I would certainly have been married for many years and would have completed any pregnancies I was going to have by the time I was 29. Little did she know, I wouldn't get married until 28 and would only be thinking about starting a family sometime soon at the dreaded old age of 29. If only I could see the look on her face now! Side note: both of my sisters got married young and had babies young. It's the right thing for a good Christian girl to do...right? Maybe not for everyone... Side side note: the tense confusion in this paragraph is on purpose. This girl knows how to use verbs properly.

I had a total meltdown at 25. 25 seems so young to have had such a meltdown, but here's the thing: I was unemployed, single, and living with my mom & dad. Things were bleak at my turn of a quarter-century. In true Myers-Briggs fashion, my intuitive side (and Satan) told me that I was far past my prime and I should just give up any hope of a husband and children because my fountain of youth had dried up and all was downhill from that point. Interesting chain of thoughts, I know. However, it's where I was. But what I realized that year would change everything.

You see, there's beauty in growing older. With each wrinkle and grey hair, we grow wiser. As every year passes, I learn more and more about this magnificent journey we call life, and aging becomes less and less scary. 26 was easy. 27 was easier. 28 was awesome (I was planning a wedding, hello). 29 saw the middle of my first year of marriage to my very best friend. Because of these last few years, I honestly can't wait to see what 30 brings. While it seems normal to be all up in arms about turning 30, I find myself excited. I find myself looking at all the possibilities that 30 holds and that makes me so hopeful and ready to take on life. I can't say I'll feel the same at 70, but for now I'm holding fast to the motto that "30 is the new 20." :)

If you're in a place where you just don't want to get older- know that God has plans that you can't even fathom for the next year to come. If that's not exciting, I don't know what is!

xo,
Angie

PS. If I write a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad blog on April 19, 2014 (the big 3-0), I fully give each and every reader the authority to throw this blog entry right back into my face. :)